Ranger's Ten Big Ones
by PTBvisiongrrl
Summary: The events of Ten Big Ones Janet Evanovich from Ranger’s perspective.
1. One

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter One  
  
It's the same every time I walk in. Honestly, the reactions to my entrance are beginning to creep me out; I really don't enjoy all the ogling. All conversation stops, everyone stares, and I swear I see drool sometimes. Lula is the worst of the bunch. Given her previous profession, I'm sure that I really don't want to hear about what goes through her mind when she thinks about me. There was a time when I was younger when this would have been an enjoyable game, but it had gotten stale over the years. Especially after I met Stephanie. I always looked for her now, whenever I entered the bonds office. As was often the case, she was talking to Connie and Lula. Her back was to the door- I couldn't break her of that habit, she was never thinking about the security of a situation- and I stopped close behind her.  
  
I felt the need to touch her. That happened often these days, since we had "settled accounts" from the DeChooch case. I still can't believe that I made a deal with her like that; it was such a false thing to do. I wanted her, I wanted to take her, and it was the only way I could think to get into her bed with Morelli still in the picture. Steph is just too good not to feel guilt over choosing to sleep with me while involved with Morelli, so I erased the need for guilt. She no longer had any choice. I thought it would work at the time. It's just recently that I realized it had blown up in my face.  
  
So I rested my hand at the base of her neck, smooth and cool against my warmth. Still not enough contact for me. I leaned into her, resting my body against her back. "Babe," I said, softly. To make a legitimate excuse for my physical trespass, I snaked my right arm around her to take the file from her hand and look it over.  
  
"Eugene Brown," I read.  
  
My heart squeezed a little. I always worry about her when I know that she has the "bad' and "kind of bad" FTAs; I prefer her to work on the first- time offenders and "not-so-bad" ones. I remembered this guy, and I thought that her usual tactics might not work so well with this case. He's not the type to respond to her social worker impulses. "You might not want to spend a lot of time with Eugene. He's not a fun guy."  
  
"I sort of bounced him off the hood of the Buick today. But it wasn't my fault."  
  
I tightened my hold on her neck. Really, it usually wasn't her fault. Stephanie was like a lodestar for all the crazy, homicidal criminals of Trenton. I swear, she could meet them in a friggin' church, and their paths would cross in a way to piss the criminal off. No matter what she did, they found her. I tried to ease a little advice into the conversation in a way that wouldn't raise her hackles. I actually wanted her to listen to me. "You want to be careful with Eugene. He hasn't got much of a sense of humor, Babe."  
  
"I don't suppose you know the identity of the devil guy who's robbing all the deli-marts?" she asked.  
  
"Don't suppose I do," I replied. Sometimes it was difficult to follow the flow of topics in her mind. "But it's not Eugene. There'd be more bodies on the floor if it was Eugene."  
  
Vinnie's inner office door opened, and Vinnie stuck his head out. "What's up?"  
  
Vinnie is a pervert, but he's a good bailbondsman. He offers a chance for the criminal element of the area to straighten themselves out away from the corrupting influence of cell mates- which sometimes happens, I'm sure. At least for those first-time offenders. Mostly he makes money off bad people. He's no better or worse than some of the men I worked with in the armed forces, but that doesn't mean that I like him. Vinnie was damn happy that I was willing to work for him, because I'm damn good at what I do- which is the reason that he's not my only employment. But I also don't like leaving him high and dry when my business takes me elsewhere, especially since that just means that Stephanie will end up doing things she really isn't fully qualified to do herself.  
  
So I was here to let him know I was going to be unavailable for a while, and to see Stephanie. "I'm going out of town for a couple weeks," I said. "Tank will be on the job, if you need him. Turning to Steph, "I want to talk to you...outside." I didn't bother to stop and see if she followed me.  
  
A quick visual survey of the area as I opened the door revealed only an overcast sky, my customized black Ford F-150 FX4 parked at curbside, and a black RangeMan SUV with tinted windows parked behind my truck. Tank had the SUV motor running.  
  
She followed me out of the office. When I turned to face her, I was struck yet again by the strength of her character. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. She viewed the world as a relatively good place holding relatively good people, with few exceptions. I don't think I had ever viewed the world quite that way. It was one of the things that drew me to her; it was also one of the reasons that I spent so much time and money trying to protect her from herself. She wore a playful look on her face. "What if I need something? Should I call Tank?"  
  
My stomach tightened and a rush of heat flowed downward. Her flirting had that reaction on me, even though I tried like hell not to show it. I didn't want her to realize how deeply she affected me, not until I was certain she was certain that it was me she really wanted.  
  
Studying her, I traced her hairline with my fingertip. Astray curl stuck out from her head, and I tucked it back behind her ear. One way to keep her from realizing just how deeply my feelings for her ran was to flirt back as lightly as she had begun. I dropped my voice to reply. "It depends on what you need. Did you have anything special in mind?"  
  
I caught and held her eyes for a few moments, and I could see the first licks of panic. She often chickened out of the game, unable to out do me for implied lewdness and innuendo. She was going to end the game now, and switch to some safer subject.  
  
"How about if I need a car?" she asked.  
  
I knew borrowing a car wasn't really foremost in her mind right now, but with Stephanie's car luck, it might really come up. The guys on my crew kept a running tally of Steph's cars, and the method of their demise, in the office control room. They had started a pool betting on how and when Steph would lose the next car. The indestructible Buick was the mother of all cars; if that ever died, and someone won the bet, they could take a year off from work on those winnings.  
  
Some would wonder why I kept lending Steph cars, since they were quite expensive and almost never came back whole. I know Morelli's already figured it out. The fact of the matter is that this way, I can keep track of her using the GPS monitors on the RangeMan vehicles- and it has come in handy in the past. The expense of the lost vehicles means nothing to me compared to Steph's safety.  
  
So I pulled my set of keys from my pocket and dropped them into her hand. "You can take my truck. I can get a ride back with Tank."  
  
A narrow alley separated Vinnie's office from the neighboring business. I couldn't stand leaving her for weeks without at least stealing a kiss. I nudged her into the shadow of the alley, pressed her against the brick wall, and kissed her. When my tongue touched hers, she curled her fingers into the front of my shirt, and seemed to have momentarily lost herself in the contact.  
  
It took a few minutes before she cut the kiss off. "Hey," she said. "You're poaching."  
  
As if I cared anymore. I had given her the opportunity and advice to go back to Morelli, and all she did now was yo-yo back and forth between living with him and breaking up with him. Frankly, it was becoming quite repetitive and frustrating. Morelli was a good guy, but he just wasn't stepping up to the plate. He and I had an understanding when it came to Stephanie's safety, if not Steph herself; each of us would do whatever was necessary to guarantee it. If it was a gray area he felt he couldn't go into, I would (had), and he would ignore the trespass. But in the end, Morelli just wasn't comfortable with a bounty hunter for a girlfriend. The fights they had were always because he didn't value her for what she was or was capable of doing, and wanted her to change to fit into his safe little male Italian, Burg notion of marriage. Anyone with half a brain could see that Steph was way beyond that world. I was waiting for her to realize it, too. "And?"  
  
"Stop it."  
  
Her eyes didn't mean it, and I told her so, but I stopped.  
  
She gave me back the truck keys. "Nice gesture but I can't take the truck."  
  
I wondered briefly why she wouldn't take it- fear of becoming further "indebted" to me, or fear of Morelli's reaction to the loan.  
  
I wanted her to know that my resources would still be available to her, even while I was gone. You never knew what might happen, and I didn't want to think of Steph in need of help and out of her depth, alone, in danger. "Call Tank if you change your mind. And be careful. Don't try to play with Eugene."  
  
And then I left. 


	2. Two

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
I was leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over my chest, watching her sleep peacefully in my bed. The danger that had driven her here certainly didn't trouble her rest. I hungrily took in the details of sleep- mussed hair and the creamy skin of her exposed thigh where she had thrown off the comforter. It was difficult not to climb in next to her and awaken her with the physical proof of my desire for her. Seeing her there, what she would look like in my bed... I had urges that would go way beyond poaching.  
  
I watched for at least fifteen minutes before she began to stir. Her awareness of my presence in a room was getting better; she used to sleep for a half-hour or more while I watched her after breaking into her apartment. I could sense the moment she realized she was not alone, because she tensed up but did not change position.  
  
I let her worry.  
  
It lasted about twenty seconds until she rolled over and opened her amazing blue eyes. Fear and panic cleared sleepiness from them quickly.  
  
"I'm trying to decide if I should throw you out the window, or if I should get in next to you." I kept my tone even, hoping she would realize how serious I was about thinking of getting in with her.  
  
"Are there any other options?" she asked me in a slightly husky tone.  
  
She realized.  
  
Even though Tank had given me a heads up on Stephanie's presence, and a good guess as to why she was here, I was curious about how Steph would explain it to me. "What are you doing here?" I asked.  
  
"I needed a safe place to stay."  
  
All the times I had offered to put her in a safe house, hell, tried to cuff her and carry her away from the crazies who always seemed to want to hurt her or kill her, and she had finally taken me up on it on her own, when I'm out of town. I still wasn't sure if I was angry that she had broken into my apartment- okay, not technically- but I guess turn about is fair play. I've broken into her place more times than I could count, and she hasn't always been there to catch me. I was amazed that she had figured out the location of my place on her own- and worried to death about what threat was serious enough to drive her away from Morelli and come here. I decided to play superhero a bit longer, trying to get her to admit why she had turned to me for help- again. "And you think that this is safe?" I asked.  
  
"It was until you came home."  
  
I think there actually was a little bit of real fear behind those words. Maybe I had been overdoing the superhero persona just a little bit? Or was it something more personal, more intimate.... I decided to push her a little bit. "What scares you more...getting thrown out the window or sleeping with me?"  
  
Her reaction- sitting up and pulling the covers up with her- gave me the answer her words didn't. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not that scary."  
  
So. She trusted me far enough not to throw her out the window in a fit of rage, but sex with me petrified her. Still, she kept up the bravado despite being alone with me in a vulnerable position. That bravado was the problem. Sometimes Stephanie was as prickly as could be and unwilling to lose face- even when she should know to just give it up. That's how she ended up in half her problems. If she'd just ask for help before it got so damn dangerous-  
  
Which reminded me of what she'd left by my door. For Stephanie to voluntarily wear a flak jacket and carry a gun- MY gun, I noted- she must be terrified. "I saw the gun and the flak vest when I came in."  
  
It was very difficult to keep my expression neutral as she explained about Junkman and the death threat. I wasn't sure who this Junkman was, but I would find out tomorrow. Then I would eliminate him from the scene, however necessary. She had an absolute talent for getting in over her head without any true effort on her part. Bad people just fell into her lap. But this was a very real threat. She was talking about a professional killer here, not just some psycho with a hard-on for her. Obviously, some of that seriousness had sunk into that thick, Burg skull of hers. She did a smart thing in coming here to hide. But I would have liked to have known what was going on. "You should have asked Tank for help."  
  
She swallowed and bit her lip slightly. She often did that when she realized she choose the hard road when an easier- and safer- one was available. "I don't always feel comfortable with Tank."  
  
I could see that. Tank was built and trained to inspire fear, not comfort. But she had nothing to ever fear from anyone working for me. All the men had standing orders regarding Stephanie, and all of them knew of my...special interest... in her. I was actually pretty sure that there was s second bet going on in the control room, after Steph's cars, about when Steph and I would end up together. Of course, it was that "special interest" that probably made it difficult for her to ask Tank for help in my absence.  
  
And made it easy for her to settle into my apartment. Was this an admission of feelings, of a sort? I was curious. "And you feel comfortable with me?"  
  
Her pause made my heart skip just a beat. I wanted to hear her say it, but it wasn't forthcoming. "Babe," I said, with a touch of mental exasperation. How long have I been pursuing this woman? There was something between us; there had been, from the beginning. On my part, it was serious and big and continuing to grow. It was becoming something of an obsession. "You're in my bed."  
  
She tucked a stray hair nervously behind her ear and didn't quite look me in the eye. "Yes. Well, I guess that would indicate a certain comfort level."  
  
"Certain comfort level" indeed. Pretty damn comfortable, judging from her choice of pajamas. Seeing her in my clothes gave me a warm rush. I'd rather see her out of them, but there's something about a woman choosing to wear some article of your clothing when you aren't around that's touching and damn sexy at the same time. "Are you wearing my shirt?"  
  
She at least had the good grace to look a little guilty. "I have to do laundry." Steph was as curious as a cat. I wonder how much snooping she had done through my stuff when she was looking for something to wear. Not that I had a lot of personal items. I just liked my privacy.  
  
Okay, she was wearing my shirt. And she had turned to me for help- again. I thought back to the kiss in the alley when I had first offered her use of my truck. She had kissed me back; she was interested, before she thought about it and realized I was "poaching." Why was she so timid about doing anything about it? I mean, if she really had it for Morelli, they would be married already.  
  
Leaning over, I started unlacing my boots. I was tired of the whole situation right now, and bone-weary from my day. I just wanted to get cleaned up and relax.  
  
Somehow, this set her off her Ranger danger radar- her voice went up a notch when she asked me what I was doing.  
  
I looked over at her. She really looked good in my bed, in my shirt. But I was just too damn tired to keep playing this game. She had walked into the lion's den- let her deal with the newly returned lion. She always backed away from sexual contact now; maybe plain, simple intimacy born of close, non-sexual contact could break down a few of her barriers. "I'm going to bed. I've been up since four this morning, and I just drove nine hours to get home. Half of it in pouring rain. I'm beat. I'm going to take a shower. And I'm going to bed."  
  
"Um..."  
  
Another exasperated mental sigh. "Don't look so panicked. You can sleep on the couch, or you can leave, or you can stay in the bed." I really hoped she would stay. "I'm not going to attack you in your sleep"- no matter how tempted I might be. "At least, it's not my plan right now. We can figure this out in the morning."  
  
She was soundly asleep when I came out, back to the bathroom, face to the wall. I crawled into the bed, carefully arranging myself so that no limbs touched her. I left a safety zone between, so that in a sleep-induced haze I wouldn't accidentally reach out and take her in my arms, as I longed to do. I stared at her back, wondering why she chose to stay instead of moving to the couch. That was a step, wasn't it? As tired as I was, it took me quite a while to fall asleep. 


	3. Three

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
She edged closer to me, and reached out. She must not have remembered where she was when she first woke up. As soon as her fingers grazed my bare skin, she realized her mistake. "Oops."  
  
I didn't give her the chance to get away. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close before she could retreat back to her side of the bed. She seemed to momentarily relax, and then more than relax.  
  
"You smell great," she murmured, then brushed her lips against my neck. It wasn't quite a kiss; more like a nuzzle. "I thought of you every time I took a shower. I love this stuff you use."  
  
So, she thought about me in the shower, huh? What I wouldn't give to know what went through that pretty head as she stood under the spray, lathered up with bath gel, and thought about me. The things I could picture in my head... I enjoyed the warmth of her next to me, the feel of her skin against mine. It had been forever since our night together.  
  
I tried to keep things light, and not concentrate on her body in my arms, but it was a losing battle. "My housekeeper buys it for me. Maybe I should give her a raise," I murmured. Then I kissed her.  
  
She pulled away, and I knew it was the wrong thing to do.  
  
"Oh shit," she said as she pulled away.  
  
"Now what?" I asked. It could be any number of things, none of which I liked, but I sincerely hoped it wasn't him.  
  
Of course, it was him. "I'm sorry. I'm having a major guilt attack over Morelli."  
  
"While we're on the subject, why aren't you in his bed?" I hoped I kept the bitterness out of my voice.  
  
"Same old, same old."  
  
"You had a fight, and you moved out."  
  
"More like a disagreement."  
  
"I'm seeing an unhealthy pattern of behavior here, Babe." She ignored the comment, and I let it pass as well. Nobody liked it when you pointed out something wrong with them; Steph was no different. In fact, she might be worse.  
  
"I didn't want to move back home because Junkman was looking for me, and I didn't want to endanger my family." Good, she had learned something. "I was going to sleep in the truck, but it led me here. The GPS was on. I just followed it backwards."  
  
Well, that was something I hadn't thought of. I was glad she only had my truck.  
  
"And broke into my apartment?"  
  
"I had a key. You don't seem especially upset or surprised that I borrowed your apartment."  
  
"With the exception of the seventh floor, the entire building inside and out is monitored. Tank called me when you pulled up to the gate. I assumed you had a good reason for needing the apartment, so I told him to let you stay."  
  
"That was nice of you."  
  
"Yeah, I'm a nice guy." That's why you're still with Morelli. "And I'm late for work." I rolled out of bed, stood at bedside, pressed speakerphone, and hit a button.  
  
"Good morning. Welcome home," Ella chirped through the speaker.  
  
"Breakfast for two this morning." I disconnected quickly, trying to avoid any questions about who was with me. I trusted Ella completely. After all, who can you trust if you can't trust family? I wasn't worried about anyone finding out where Steph was. I was worried about Aunt Ella making assumptions about what was going on between Steph and me, and asking questions I'd rather not answer.  
  
"What was that?" her voice was breathless, even though she tried to conceal it  
  
"Ella and Louis Guzman manage this building for me." I neglected to provide any other details about them. Knowing Ella was my aunt would probably just make Stephanie uncomfortable- or more curious. I didn't need the two of them talking. "I work here, and sometimes I sleep here. That's about it. Ella makes it easy for me. She does the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, the shopping."  
  
"And she brings you breakfast?"  
  
"She'll be at the door in ten minutes." I thought I should give Steph a fair heads-up about Ella. While she's no Grandma Mazur, she can be pretty tough. "I've never had a woman here before, so she's going to be curious. Just smile and endure it. She's a very nice lady." I wonder if Stephanie was paying attention to what I said. She kept looking at me when she thought I wouldn't notice.  
  
I was lacing up my boots when Ella brought in the bagels, fruit, and lox.  
  
"What is that?" Steph asked, pointing to the food in the dining room.  
  
I headed for the door. "Breakfast?"  
  
She sounded a bit incredulous. "You eat like this everyday?"  
  
"Everyday that I'm here."  
  
"What about the tree bark and wild roots?" Steph's face frowned a little.  
  
I poured coffee and took some fruit. "Only when I'm in a third world jungle. And I'm almost never in one of those." At least, lately.  
  
"I've been eating that cardboard cereal in your cupboard."  
  
I looked at her, calling her on the exaggeration. "Babe, I looked in my cupboard. You've got Frosted Flakes in there."  
  
"So is this the Batcave?" Master of subtle subject change.  
  
I smiled inwardly before I answered. I don't know who started calling me Batman first, her or Lula. "This is an apartment I keep in my office building. I have similar buildings and apartments in Boston, Atlanta, and Miami. It turns out security is big business these days. I supply a variety of services to a wide range of clients. Trenton was my first base of operations, and it's the place I spend most of my time. My family is still in Jersey."  
  
I could see her taking in all the information and filing it away for future reference. "Why all the secrecy?" she asked.  
  
"We're not secretive about the office buildings, but we try to keep a low profile." I hoped she would let the "we" pass by, but this was curioser- than-a-cat Stephanie.  
  
"We?" she prompted.  
  
Some things Stephanie did not need to know. I tried to keep it vague. "I have partners."  
  
"Let me guess- the Justice League. The Flash, Wonder Woman, and Superman." She smiled a little at her joke. I almost smiled back.  
  
"Okay, forget the partners. I want to get back to the Bat Cave. Is there a Bat Cave?" She was like a dog with a bone.  
  
I took a bagel and spread some lox onto it. "You're going to have to work harder for that one. It's not in the phone book, and GPS isn't going to take you there." I glanced at my watch. "I have five minutes. Tell me about Junkman."  
  
"Not much to tell. He wants to kill me. I told you everything I know last night."  
  
"What are you doing about it?"  
  
"Connie and Lula and I kidnapped a slayer. The plan was to get him to talk to us about Junkman, but we haven't had any luck."  
  
I finished my bagel and pushed back from the table to finish my coffee. Steph was getting ambitious; kidnapping was a big deal. It showed how afraid she was. "Kidnapping a slayer is good. Why wouldn't he talk?"  
  
"He didn't want to."  
  
I paused with my coffee cup halfway to my mouth. If it had been anyone but Stephanie, I would assume the uncooperative hostage had been beaten beyond bloody and/or dead. I wondered what Stephanie had done to try and get him to talk. "You're supposed to persuade him."  
  
Steph looked sheepish. "We were going to slap him around, but when we got him tied to the chair it turned out none of us could hit him."  
  
I burst out laughing and my coffee sloshed out of my cup into the table. In some ways, Stephanie was a good bounty hunter; she was tenacious, smart, and saw angles other people didn't. And she had lots of luck. But she just wasn't...violent...enough. I put the cup down, and reached for a napkin, trying not to laugh. I wasn't very successful.  
  
"Jeez. I think that's the first time I've ever seen you laugh like that."  
  
"There's not a lot to laugh about when you're knee deep in garbage. And that's where we usually operate." I guess I needed to take her to some nicer places. I swiped at the coffee spill with my napkin.  
  
"If you have all of this, why do you still do fugitive apprehension?"  
  
I thought for a second before I replied. "I'm good at it. And someone has to do the job."  
  
She followed me into my dressing room, and watched as I opened the locked drawer and removed a gun. Her eyes kept dropping down, and I had a feeling she'd noted that the only underwear I owned was the black silk boxers that I'd slept in. I tried to redirect her attention; if she kept looking at me like that, I was going to be late for this meeting and she was going to have a serious case of Morelli-guilt. "Do you still have your Slayer hidden away?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Is he secure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"My day is filled, but we can talk to him tonight. In the meantime, don't have any contact with this guy. Don't feed him. Let him worry." I clipped the gun to my belt. "I need the truck. Use one of the Porsches. The keys are in the plate on the sideboard. The communications room and gym are on the fifth floor. Feel free to use the gym. Ella and Louis live on the sixth floor. You can intercom number six if you need anything. She'll be in today to make the bed and clean and pick up laundry. She'll do your laundry if you leave it out for her." I looked at my watch again. "I have a meeting scheduled. I'm assuming you want to live here a while longer?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I almost smiled. "You're going to be indebted to me, Babe. You want to start working on that guilt problem."  
  
I grabbed her and kissed her. Kissing her was like touching the sun. She burned me, but I couldn't help myself. The amazing thing was that she didn't realize the depth of her power. I pulled away, rushed. If I didn't leave now, I wasn't going to make it out of the apartment. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder, carry her back to the bed, and worship her for hours. "I have to go. I'm late."  
  
Stephanie didn't let me go that easily. She continued in a conversational tone, asking me if I knew where the truck was.  
  
"It's in the garage. I had Tank bring it in last night. All the cars and trucks are equipped with GPS tracking. We always know where they are." I answered her question over my shoulder, as I closed the door behind me. I didn't think I'd be able to control myself if Steph stayed for more than couple of days. 


	4. Four

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Again with the staring. They were all clustered at the front window, Connie and Lula pressed against the glass. Probably discussing Steph's- my- car. Stephanie was standing with her back to the door, again. She didn't see me enter, but knew from the others' faces. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder as soon as I opened the door, then returned to her original position.  
  
I walked across the room, stopping directly behind her. I rested my hand on her back. I loved to touch her, to feel her coolness against me, even if only in passing. It reminded me of what she had been like that night. I spoke directly to Connie. "Tank said that you wanted me to stop by."  
  
Handing me a file, Connie said, "I originally gave this to Stephanie, but she's got a lot on her plate right now."  
  
Tell me about it, I thought. Flipping through it, I recognized the loser. "I know this guy. The thumb belongs to Hector Santinni. Santinni stiffed Rodriguez on a drug sale, so Rodriguez chopped off Santinni's thumb and put it in a jar of formaldehyde. Rodriguez carries the thumb everywhere. Thinks the thumb gives him an edge." I got to know such wonderful people in this job.  
  
I hoped that Stephanie was listening. Rodriguez was a shit, and weird, but still dangerous. I wanted her to realize what she would be going up against.  
  
Connie spoke dryly. "So much for the edge. The police have the thumb."  
  
I mentally shook my head. "A lot more where that came from." I shifted my full attention to Stephanie, skimming my hand up from her back and resting at the base of her neck. I was concerned about Stephanie going after this guy, but not overly so. Unlike Morelli, I knew and accepted that this was Stephanie's job. She wasn't the world's best bounty hunter, but she was getting better. If I took this one away from her, she would think I thought she wasn't up to it and would be pissed. Morelli might not want her to be a bounty hunter, but that wasn't me. I just wanted her to be a better one.  
  
Practice makes perfect. "Your call, Babe. Do you want him?" I asked.  
  
She paused. "Is he a gang guy?"  
  
The question showed caution. I felt a bit better. "No. He's an independent nut case."  
  
She looked me in the eye. "I'll keep him."  
  
She always amazed me. Junkman looking for her, and she's out catching dangerous skips. Braver girl than most. Still, I tried to instill a little caution in her. "He's probably looking for a new thumb. So be careful." My hand tightened on her neck. "Most afternoons you can find him at the bar on the corner of Third and Laramie." I trailed my fingers down the length of her spine, regretting the lost of contact as I walked out. I knew she would be safe today. There were two of my men watching her, and they would follow her anywhere she went- a change in standard orders. No more waiting at the curb- Steph was getting better at evading her bodyguards. She was not going to slip away through a back door or get grabbed while in the ladies' room. I got into my truck and took off. If I paused, I would be tempted to go back in, grab her, and kiss. For the first time in a very long time, I had a real fear that I couldn't control a situation, even with Stephanie's cooperation. There were a lot more Slayers than I had men at my disposal to assign to guard her.  
  
And that thought left me cold. 


	5. Five

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
She unbolted the door when she heard me turn the key in the lock.  
  
I tossed my keys into the dish and rifled through the mail, not opening any. "How was your day?"  
  
"Good. You were right about Rodriguez. He was open for business at the bar on Third and Laramie."  
  
I nodded in acknowledgement. I had a complete run down on her day from the team following her, but it was nice to hear her talk about it anyway. "Who's getting married?"  
  
"Valerie."  
  
There was a knock at the door, and Ella came in with a food tray.  
  
"Would you like me to set the table?" she asked.  
  
"Not necessary." No reason to waste time on dinner that could be better spent doing something else...like our appointment with Steph's kidnapped slayer. "You can just leave the tray in the kitchen."  
  
Ella swept past us, deposited the food, and returned to the front foyer.  
  
"Is there anything else?" she asked, looking at me.  
  
She was fishing. I could tell she was curious, and the minute she caught me alone I was going to have to answer a million questions about what was going on with Steph and me. "No. We're good for the night. Thank you."  
  
I locked the door after Ella and returned to the kitchen, Stephanie trailing behind me. This was the most time Steph and I had ever spent together not working. It felt good. I wondered what her reaction to my apartment and the details of my life was going to be. Batman is a lot to live up to. "This is ruining my image, isn't it?"  
  
"All this time, I thought you were so tough. I imagined you sleeping on a dirt floor somewhere."  
  
I uncovered one of the dishes. "There were years like that." Most of which I had no desire to remember, much less repeat. I appreciated everything I had these days, and had worked very hard to get them.  
  
Dinner was roasted vegetables, wild rice, and chicken in lemon sauce. We filled our plates and ate at the counter, sitting on bar stools. Neither of us spoke much. I wondered what was going on in her mind; I was having trouble keeping mine off of her.  
  
She finished her chicken, and looked over at the silver tray. "No dessert?"  
  
I pushed back from the counter. Steph really didn't understand the concept of eating healthy. "Sorry, I don't eat dessert." I brought up our evening plans. Not the world's best date, going to rough up a gang-banger to make him talk. "Where are you keeping your Slayer?"  
  
"Vinnie's house in Point Pleasant."  
  
I had been impressed she had thought up this plan at all; she's normally much more timid about physical violence. "Who knows about this?"  
  
"Connie, Lula, and me." Okay, not as impressed. I can't imagine Lula was much help. Connie could hold her own. I studied Steph's face. She was waiting for a comment, which I declined to voice. Morelli could criticize her choice of career; my interest was making her better at it. So far, nothing was so bizarre that she had jeopardized herself, so no need for reproach. Which, thinking of Steph being cautious, she had never taken her flak vest off when she returned tonight.  
  
I reached across, unzipped her (my) sweatshirt, and released the Velcro tabs on the vest. "This isn't going to help you, Babe. Junkman shot his last two victims in the head." And if she continued to wear it, my view of her chest, firm and round, was obstructed.  
  
She removed the vest, but put the sweatshirt back on. Damn. Not exactly an unobstructed view.  
  
I dialed Ella and told her we were leaving, then took a utility belt and sweatshirt from the dressing room. The black nylon web belt carried the usual paraphernalia- a gun, stun gun, pepper spray, cuffs, a Maglite, and extra ammo. We left the apartment, locked up, and took the elevator. Tank and Hal met us in the garage; Steph and I took the Porsche Turbo, Tank and Hal the Explorer. I tossed the belt into the back as we pulled out.  
  
We rolled out of the garage and cut over to Broad. It was a dark, moonless night. The cloud cover was low, threatening more rain. Tank and Hal stayed close behind us. I relaxed into my driving zone, silent. I was considering how best to handle Steph's presence at this interrogation. I didn't think she'd be able to handle it if we really had to work him over.  
  
She interrupted my thoughts, as if she was reading them. "You aren't going to hurt him, are you?"  
  
I looked at her in the review mirror. It still amazed me that she didn't want to beat this bastard black and blue on her own. I was going to do whatever I needed to do to get the information I wanted- including putting a bullet through parts of his body. "Babe."  
  
"I know he probably killed a couple of people. But I'm sort of responsible for his safety."  
  
"You want to explain that?"  
  
She told me how they bonded Ward out and then kidnapped him. She was really coming along in the planning. It was a brilliant idea. "Nice," I said.  
  
I neglected to give a definitive answer, though, and fell back into silence to avoid a more insistent question.  
  
Vinnie's street was totally black, not a single light burning. Good for the operation. I pulled the Porsche into the driveway, leaving enough room for Tank to pull the SUV in behind us.  
  
I decided to give Stephanie a chance to gracefully bow out of the situation. I knew she would not enjoy the experience, and I didn't think she'd learn anything from it about being a better bounty hunter. She just doesn't have the strength or presence to pull off intimidation at this level. And, quite frankly, she just doesn't have the stomach to do this part of the job herself. "I can leave you in the car with Hal," I told her as I got the belt from the back. "Would you feel more comfortable with that?"  
  
To her credit, she declined my offer. "No. I'm coming in."  
  
The house was quiet, without a sense a presence. The Slayer was in the bathroom, shackled to the toilet and sink pipe just as Stephanie had described. He didn't look very happy to see me.  
  
"Do you know who I am?" I asked him quietly. The power of calmly threatening was immense, I had learned over the years. I hardly every raise my voice.  
  
He nodded, checking out my weapons. "Yeah, I know who you are."  
  
Good. Then he should know to be scared to shit of me. "I'm going to ask you some questions. And you need to give me the right answers."  
  
The kid's eyes went from me to Stephanie and past me to Tank. I could see comprehension slowly dawning on his face.  
  
"If you don't give me the right answers, I'm going to leave you alone in the house with Tank and Hal. Do you understand?" I didn't want to disturb Steph by personally beating the crap out of the guy. Talk about damaging my image. I didn't want her to see that side of me anymore than the brief glimpses of it she had already seen.  
  
"Yeah, I understand."  
  
"Tell me about Junkman," I directed.  
  
"Nothing to tell. He's from out of town. L.A. Nobody even knows his name. Just Junkman."  
  
What a helpful guy. My arm twitched a little. I really wanted to hit him. "Where does he live?"  
  
"Moves around, livin' with the bitches. Always got a new bitch. We're not exactly best friends, you know? Like I don't know his bitches."  
  
Such respect for women. "What's the deal with the killing? What's the list about?"  
  
"Hey, man, I can't talk to you about these things. I'm a brother."  
  
My patience began to wear thin. I was fully aware of Steph behind me, listening to the conversation. I decided to make him talk quickly and with as little blood as possible. I whacked him in the knee with the Maglite, and he went down like a sack of sand.  
  
"Anybody finds out I talked to you, I'm a dead man," Ward said, holding his knee.  
  
The superhero persona was coming out. This was the way the game was played. I was bigger, badder, and could make him hurt more right now. I just needed to make sure he understood that, and that I had no problem with doing more than hurting him. "You don't talk to me and you're going to wish you were dead."  
  
The threat hit home.  
  
"It's about being a Five Star General. Junkman was a lieutenant in the organization out in L.A. He got sent here to take over on account of Trenton's had some leadership problems. Power vacuum after our OG Moody Black got taken out. Only thing, Junkman gotta impress the members first. He gotta eat some serious food, you know. Like he has to make some kills that count. He already took out a Second Crown of the Kings and an enforcer. What he's got left is a cop and sweetie pie, here."  
  
I cut off my emotional reaction and thought logically about his statements. Everything made sense from a gang perspective except Stephanie. "Why Stephanie?"  
  
"She's a bounty hunter. She collected a bunch of the brothers. And it's not good to get collected by snatch. It's not a high prestige factor."  
  
Insecure. All these little boys, so insecure because they got beaten by a girl. They never stop to consider that maybe they got beaten because she's better or smarter.  
  
"So for Junkman's last proof of worthiness the council decided he had to give the members some bounty hunter. The plan is he catches the snatch and passes it around to the members before he does her. She's part of the coronation."  
  
My blood ran cold. This was worse than I imagined. If it had to happen, a sudden death is good; but never, never let Stephanie have to experience such brutality as gang rape. If it happened, I would be single-handedly responsible for removing the Slayers as a presence in Trenton forever.  
  
Stephanie left the bathroom at this point. I think the pictures of what could happen to her were too much for her to handle, because I hadn't even drawn blood yet. I motioned for Tank to continue while I exited.  
  
I closed the bathroom door behind me and squatted in front of her on the couch. She looked really pale and like she might faint. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. It was getting boring, so I thought I'd take a nap." You gotta admire that type of spunk.  
  
"We're almost done with Anton Ward. Do you have plans for him?" Somehow, I doubted it, if she couldn't even manage to hit him. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I had more experience in getting rid of people, and I would take care of it for her if she needed me to do so. It wouldn't be the first person I've killed for her. But I also wanted to give her the option of handling it herself.  
  
"I was going to revoke his bond and put him back in jail."  
  
Interesting approach. "And the reason for this?"  
  
"He agreed to wear a PTU and then refused when we got him released, escaping out the bonds office bathroom window before we could install the unit." Again, I was impressed. She really had a plan all thought out, and a damn good one. But she didn't need to dirty her hands with this any further. That's the beauty of having people work for you.  
  
"I'll have Tank take care of it. We'll hold him over tomorrow morning, so we can get the paperwork straight." One last, crucial piece of information. "Did you bring him in blindfolded?" I asked.  
  
"He was wrapped in a blanket. It was dark and I doubt he saw much." Damn, she was getting better at this. Or at least luckier. 


	6. Six

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
It took forty minutes to get back to Trenton and neither of us spoke. Normal for me. Not normal for Steph. I parked the car and we got out together. When we got in the elevator, I touched the number four button.  
  
"What's on the fourth floor?" she asked suspiciously.  
  
"Studio apartments that are available to RangeMan employees. I moved one of the men out so you could have your own place until it's safe for you to leave." I had decided this morning, while looking into the Junkman situation, that Steph might be here for a while. I couldn't handle her in my place- in my bed- for that long. As the doors opened, I wrapped her hand around the key. "Don't expect me to always be this civilized."  
  
Stephanie was actually a little flustered. "I'm undone. I don't know what to say."  
  
I took the key back, crossed the hall, and opened the door to 4B. I flipped the light on, gave Steph the key back, and shoved her inside. I practically ran out of the place. "Lock the door before I change my mind. Hit seven if you need me."  
  
I regretted kicking Stephanie down to the fourth as soon as I entered my apartment. She hadn't been here long, but the silence left by her absence absolutely echoed. I stood for a moment by the door and looked around. Everything looked exactly the same. How could it feel so empty? And so quickly?  
  
I steeled myself against the urge to go back and get her, or call down to check on her. She was waiting for me to initiate something, and I refused, no matter how much I wanted to do so. Steph needed to make the decision to be with me on her own. I had applied as much pressure to the situation as I dared; anymore, and I wouldn't be sure if Steph's actions were based on what she wanted or what she thought I wanted.  
  
This might be the first time that anyone had actually left the final decision completely up to Stephanie, without major biased argument. I only hoped that she was the woman I thought she was, and that she would have the strength to make the decision on her own.  
  
I tried to take my mind off the situation. Steph, I know, would have either cleaned (she only did so when upset or freaked out), eaten baked goods, or watched Ghostbusters for the twelve million time to distract herself. Normally, I would have run down a difficult skip in the hopes that I would need to beat him down a bit, or go to the gym and work out. I could do neither, right now. I was afraid to leave my apartment in case I couldn't control myself and ended up outside Steph's door.  
  
I resolutely walked out to the kitchen, got a Corona out of the fridge, and sat down in front of my huge television. I flipped randomly through channels, pausing momentarily to get a grasp of what the show was about before moving on. Nothing caught my eye. Amazing how you can have over four hundred channels and not find a single thing you wanted to watch. When I hit the same channels a third time, I gave up and decided on a shower. I made my way into the bathroom and started stripping. I got as far as my t- shirt when an image flashed in my mind and made me stop- Steph, toweling off after a shower, then pulling my shirt on for bed.  
  
A shower wasn't going to clear my mind.  
  
I hadn't been this unfocused and restive since... I had never been this unfocused and restive. I was at such loose ends that I actually began to seriously consider calling Steph and checking on her. My left hand held the receiver and my right was reaching for the intercom switch when the doorbell rang. I hastily dropped it and moved quickly to the peephole.  
  
It was Stephanie. My heart raced. I had held out-barely- and she had made a small decision on her own. She had come to me.  
  
I opened the door before it rang a second time.  
  
Blue eyes looked up at me. "It's lonely on the fourth floor. And your sheets are nicer than mine."  
  
I stared at her. Okay, she'd taken a baby step. Not exactly the speed at which I wanted to go, but it was a beginning. I resumed the banter game. "Ordinarily I'd take that as a sexual invitation, but after this morning I'm going to guess you just want my sheets."  
  
"Actually, I was hoping I could sleep on your couch." Damn.  
  
I pulled her into the apartment and locked the door behind her. Half- joking, I said, "You can sleep anywhere you want, but I'm not going to be responsible for my actions if you fondle me again when I'm sleeping."  
  
"I didn't fondle you!" she indignantly stated. 


	7. Seven

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
This is the only chapter that I completely created.  
  
We sat down, side by side, on the couch. I went through the entertainment center, fishing for the copy of Ghostbusters I had sent Ella out to buy today. Peeling off the wrapping, I popped it into the DVD player, and settled back.  
  
"I didn't think you liked this movie."  
  
"I don't."  
  
"Then why do you own it?" she asked.  
  
"Because you like it," I admitted.  
  
Steph flashed me a smile, then settled back on her side of the couch to watch. I continued watching her. I've been forced to watch this numerous times with her already. Not exactly the movie I would choose myself. But I always enjoy watching her watch the movie. I did it surreptitiously, out of the corner of my eyes; if I was too obvious, she would feel my eyes on her and get uncomfortable. I didn't want her self-conscious. I had memorized the crinkles at the corners of her eyes that appeared when she laughed, the accompanying brief flash of white teeth. Tonight, she was more still and quiet than usual. No crinkles, no teeth showing. After a half-hour or so, she turned to me.  
  
Those blue eyes looked so tired, and scared, and lost. "Ranger..."  
  
Her voice was heavy with emotion. The question was, what emotion? My heart raced with all the things I hoped she might say. I didn't expect it when it came out. "I haven't thanked you for letting me stay here."  
  
I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure where this was going, but the emotion in her voice gave me chills. It was bare, naked, real feeling. No banter, no innuendo. "No thanks needed. Whatever we give each other-"  
  
She finished for me. "There is no price." She shook her head, the corner of her mouth turned up. "That doesn't mean that I can't say thank you. Especially since I didn't ask before I moved in here. I know that you value your privacy."  
  
Truth be told, I was suddenly afraid of where this was going. Afraid I might hear something I didn't want to hear. I was sure she had called Morelli before she came up here. She wasn't living with him, but she had said it was because of the threat to his safety if she was around. They had argued before she left, but she still felt guilt in bed with me. I suddenly didn't want to wade into the emotional waters with her now. She wasn't thinking as clearly as she should be. Too much duress. Any decisions made now were not well thought out. So I went back to playful, my heart breaking the entire time. "Are you going to tell me that you looked through my underwear drawer?" I asked in a low, sexy voice.  
  
Steph turned bright red and stuttered a bit. "I d-d-did no s-such thing."  
  
The moment was gone. I leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head, pulling her close for a quick, friendly hug. "I don't value my privacy over your life. You did the right thing in coming here, even if you should have let me know you needed help." I stood up and handed her the remote. "I will always help you, Steph. No matter what."  
  
Then I walked to the bathroom, showered and changed. I knew Steph would stay on the couch, as much as I might regret it. Emotionally exhausted, my body screaming to go get her and show her how I felt, I lay down to sleep. It took a long time before my eyes closed. 


	8. Eight

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
We were at the breakfast table, and I was watching her eat a croissant. Her mouth was mesmerizing. True to her words, she had spent a guilt-free night sacked out on my couch. I, on the other hand, had spent a somewhat difficult night trying to ignore the fact that she was sacked out on my couch. I had gotten up at least a half-dozen times in the night to watch her sleep and consider curling up with her or carrying her to my bed. There were also very cold showers involved.  
  
She never really explained what sent her up three floors to my lair. "Tell me the truth. Were you really freaked out last night? Or did you just want my sheets and my shower gel and my food?"  
  
She smiled and continued to chew. "Does it matter?"  
  
I thought about it for a long moment. For whatever reason, she had spent another night in my apartment. That was really all that mattered at this point. "Only minimally."  
  
More disappointing was the couch decision. Stephanie obviously didn't trust herself in a bed next to me, the ghost of Morelli between us or not.  
  
I needed to tell Steph about a call I received earlier, but I wasn't sure the best way to tell her. I decided not to sugar coat it much and just get it out. "I got some bad news while you were in the shower this morning. Junkman tagged his cop."  
  
Stephanie stilled immediately. Her voice was a bit raw from multiple emotions when she asked, "Anyone I know?"  
  
"No." I was thankful that she didn't know the cop. "He was a member of the State Police Street Gang Unit. He was working locally, but he was based out of North Jersey."  
  
"Junkman will get taken out," I continued. I wanted to minimize her worry. "There are a lot of people looking for him. In the meantime, I want you to stay in the building." Persuading her to go along with this was going to be tricky. I tried cool, logical, businessman tactics instead of caveman impulses to protect her. "If I don't have to worry about you, I can have two extra men out on the street tracking Junkman." I also tried to make this sound like I was asking her, so that I could help her faster, rather than ordering her.  
  
She poured more coffee into her mug. "You have a lot of overhead here. How can you afford to have men following me around and looking for Junkman?"  
  
She didn't realize what a loaded question that actually was. "Junkman just killed a state cop. There's a big enough reward for Junkman to justify assigning some manpower to search for him. There's no monetary way to justify a security detail to watch over you. I bleed money every time you need protection."  
  
That caught her off guard for a moment. "Jeez. I'm sorry," she said in a low, apologetic voice.  
  
I finished my coffee and stood. "I said there was no monetary way to justify your security. The truth is, you're a line item in my budget." Her eyes perked up a bit at that.  
  
She followed me to my bedroom as I went to get my gun. Clipping it to my belt, I turned to her. I hated to be mean, but I had to make her understand how important it was for her to stay in and not go out. She wasn't used to confinement, but she couldn't take care of herself. I wanted to remind her of that. "I have you listed under entertainment." I continued to get ready, sliding money and credit cards into my pants pocket. "This is a high-stress business, and you're comedy relief for my entire team. Plus, I get a tax break." Not really, but I couldn't come up with a less personal reason to watch so closely over her. She would probably actually have to think about the truthfulness of the statement for a while.  
  
I knew by her expression- eyes wide, eyebrows high- that this did not please her. "Comedy relief?" she said, her voice several intervals above normal.  
  
I smiled full-on at her, back pedaling to repair. I had a feeling that full honesty- or as close to it as I could get- would be my only safe passage out of here. "I like you. We all like you." I grabbed her by the front of her shirt, lifted her two inches off the ground, and kissed her. Taking a deep breath, I blurted out "The truth is, I love you...in my own way." I set her down and turned to go. "Have a nice day. And remember, you're on camera the instant you leave this apartment. I've given orders to stun-gun you if you try to leave the building." And I really had.  
  
Then I left. 


	9. Nine

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
I walked through the door a few minutes after six, right in to a firestorm of Stephanie anger. After I tossed my keys into the dish and did a cursory shuffle of the mail Ella had brought up earlier, I looked up and locked eyes with her. "You're looking a little crazy, Babe."  
  
"I'm leaving now," she said. "I'm going to the mall, and I just waited around so I could say thank you. I appreciate the use of your apartment, and I'm going to mess the shower gel big-time, but I have to go. So it would be good if you made sure no one stun-gunned me."  
  
I returned the letters to the silver tray. "No."  
  
"No?" She actually sounded surprised by my answer.  
  
"Junkman is still out there." My whole body was tense. I needed to talk her down, or I had the feeling that I might end up physically restraining her. As much fun as that might be, under other circumstances, I didn't think that it was a good idea right now.  
  
"Have you made any progress?" she asked warily.  
  
"We have a name," I said. "Norman Carver."  
  
Steph shook her head. "Norman's not going to be at the mall. And excuse me, you're blocking the door."  
  
I continued to use my bulk to block the door. "Give it a rest."  
  
"Give it a rest, yourself," she said. She gave me a shot to the shoulder. "Get out of my way."  
  
Not even hard enough to make me blink. Then she shoved me again, and I lost my patience. I had spent all day trying to solve her problem, and had come up virtually empty-handed. I was usually patient enough to let cases fall out until there was a break, but I didn't have time to do that with Junkman. My frustration met Stephanie's frustration head one.  
  
I shoved back, pinning her to the wall with my body. I enjoyed the contact despite my mood.  
  
"I've had a long, unsatisfying day," I threatened. "I'm low on patience. Don't push me."  
  
She was immobilized. She stared at me, blue eyes wide, and I saw a touch of fear in them. I also saw desire. I was so tempted to lean in and kiss her, because I knew that if I did, neither of us would have the self-control to stop. But I resisted.  
  
"This really pisses me off," she spat out.  
  
I continued to lean into her, my cheek was resting against the side of her head, taking in that faint smell of Stephanie mixed with my shower gel. My hands were pressed flat against the wall, framing Steph's shoulders. Then she did something totally unexpected that took my breath away. In the midst of trying to frighten and intimidate her- and I can be pretty damn scary- she snuggled into me and brushed a light kiss across my neck.  
  
I came very close to throwing her over my shoulder and taking her to the bed. I wanted to show her the fire she was playing with. She was baiting me. "No fair," I said.  
  
She shifted her body under mine, and I couldn't help but react.  
  
"I've got the weight and the muscle," I said, my voice husky and showing the strain of being so close to her. "But I'm starting to think you've got the power."  
  
"Do I have enough power to persuade you to take me shopping?" Stephanie asked in an innocent tone.  
  
Amazing how quickly she can change the mood. "God doesn't have that much power. Did Ella bring dinner up?"  
  
"About ten minutes ago. It's in the kitchen."  
  
I pushed away from her, ruffling her hair, and went to the kitchen in search of food. I knew her cranky, cooped-up spell had passed. I deliberately left the door unattended, knowing the car keys were in the dish.  
  
"Arrogant bastard," she yelled after me.  
  
I turned and flashed her the full-on smile.  
  
Stephanie was still at the breakfast table when I came out of my bedroom. I was dressed for bear, wearing a fully loaded utility belt and an unzipped flak jacket. "Try not to get too crazy today," I asked, heading for the door. I really hoped that the temper tantrum last night would not be repeated today. My men did not have the same arsenal to use against her as I did. One of them might really have to use his stun gun on her.  
  
"Yeah," she said, sulking. "And you should try not to get shot."  
  
It was a disturbing good-bye because we both meant what we said. 


	10. Ten

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
"Babe," I said. "What are you doing at the VFW?" There was a touch of exasperation and a bit of fear in my voice.  
  
"Valerie's shower. Is Hal okay?"  
  
Trust her to stun gun a guy and then ask how he was doing. "Yeah. You were caught on camera again. The men in the control room were laughing so hard when you stunned Hal they couldn't get down the stairs fast enough to stop you from leaving the garage." Those guys were in serious trouble when I got back.  
  
"I heard they caught Junkman, so I thought it was okay to leave."  
  
"I heard that, too, but I haven't been able to confirm the capture." I was fairly sure that the man in custody was another Slayer trying to draw Stephanie out into the open, but I didn't want to scare her. And I knew that her mother would never forgive her if she didn't go to Valerie's shower. "I've got a man on you. Try not to destroy him."  
  
I disconnected, hoping for the best, and went back to my search for the real Junkman. I felt like time was running out. 


	11. Eleven

I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use them for my amusement.  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
I was in the middle of "interrogating" another Slayer when I got the call. I recognized the number right away- Lester, who was supposed to be watching Stephanie. "Talk," I barked.  
  
It had taken a few minutes for my man to realize that Stephanie was gone. Those were precious minutes that might cost her life. Lester's voice was shaking; if I were him, calling someone like me to give a message like this, I'd be scared shitless, too. "Ranger, she disappeared."  
  
My heart stopped. "She's not in the hall?" Why hadn't Lester followed her inside?  
  
"Her mother can't find her. She never even got into the hall. Apparently, Steph said something about moving the Buick, but the Buick is gone." Lester paused. "I'm sorry, man. I was watching the entrance, not the exit."  
  
I bit off a string of curses in Spanish. "Call the control room. I put a tracer on the Buick. Find out where it is, NOW."  
  
Tank looked at me, holding the Slayer upright by sheer force. My interrogation had been quick and violent; I needed information, and I needed it now. Now that I had it, I didn't really care what happened to the boy. He had told me, after a great deal of persuasion, where the event would occur. "Leave him. They got her."  
  
The control room called back in less then two minutes, just as I was pulling away from the curb. Bobby confirmed my worst fear. "The Buick is stopped at the seven hundred block of Comstock." Unstated- Slayerland.  
  
"Fuck." I cut the call short and concentrated on driving. Tank would be right behind me, and the rest of the guys on their way, too. I only hoped that I could make it in time to keep her alive. I didn't think I'd be able to save her from being raped. Why hadn't she stayed at the apartment? Why hadn't I stayed with her?  
  
Why hadn't I let her know how I felt?  
  
That one sobering thought pierced my heart. She couldn't die. She couldn't go away without knowing.  
  
I drove recklessly, speeding between cross streets, brakes screeching to a halt at corners. Sometime around Stark, I picked up the procession of cop cars, lights flashing. I pulled in, cutting off a blue-and-white. Morelli, a Kojak red light slapped on top of his SUV, was right behind me. A quick look in the rearview showed me what seemed to be the entire Trenton police force behind us. The blue-and-white, then me, and then Morelli were the first on the scene.  
  
I was afraid of what we would find, and I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to handle it. Fear was a new emotion for me, one that I didn't like. I was used to facing near-certain death situations calmly. Each close call for Stephanie seemed to sap more of that ability form me. It was one of the ways I knew that I loved her.  
  
Barely stopping, Morelli and I both hit the ground running, weapons drawn. There was a yellow school bus blocking our view. Rounding the bus, we both slowed when we saw Steph standing in the middle of the what couldn't be called less than a massacre, next to a huge, ugly drag queen dangling an Uzi from his/her trigger finger.  
  
Stephanie smiled at Morelli and me, then gave us a small, shaky, smart-ass wave.  
  
She was alive. She looked okay, if a bit bruised and disheveled. But not raped, and not dead.  
  
"My heroes," she said, arms crossed. "Upstaged by a guy in a red dress and heels."  
  
"Freakin' humbling.," the drag queen said.  
  
Robin Russell, the cop ahead of Morelli and me, was already securing the crime scene with tape. We slipped under the tape and picked our way around the bodies. It was truly an impressive body count for anything less than a small invasion.  
  
"Hi," Steph said, with a small smile. "What's up?"  
  
"Not a lot," Morelli said. "What's up with you?"  
  
"Same old, same old."  
  
"Yeah, I can see that," Morelli said.  
  
"You remember Sally Sweet," she said.  
  
I shook Sally's hand, then Joe and Sally shook hands.  
  
"Sally mowed all these Slayers," Steph motioned.  
  
"I made sort of a mess," Sally said. "I didn't mean to run over them like this. I tried to stop, but the brakes aren't what they used to be on old Betsy. And it's friggin' hard to, you know, brake in heels. But what the hell, it turned out okay, right? All's well that ends well."  
  
Morelli and I were both trying hard not to smile too wide. Relief flooded my system, and made it harder not to laugh. Morelli had a harder time than me.  
  
"There's a nice reward being offered on Junkman," Morelli said to Sally, trying to keep his voice normal. "Ten big ones."  
  
I looked at the gun Sally was holding, trying to think of something to say. "Do you always carry an Uzi?"  
  
"I keep it in the bus," Sally said. "Got to protect the little dudes. I tried an AK-47, but it wouldn't fit under my seat. I like the Uzi better, anyway. It looks better with the dress. The AK seems to casual to me."  
  
"It's important to accessorize properly," Steph said.  
  
"Fudgin' A," Sally said.  
  
I shook my head. I didn't know what to do. Steph wasn't moving in Morelli's direction or mine. I very much wanted to grab her and kiss her until we both ran out of air. But Morelli beat me to her, and held her in a tight hug, whispering in her ear. She hugged him back, and I decided not to approach. Another time would be more appropriate. Her emotions, after such stress, didn't need a Ranger "I love you" on top of the rest of this night.  
  
After all, her things were at my place. I could wait a few more days; it had already been almost two years. I can be a very patient man.  
  
And I knew she'd have to come and pick up Rex at some point. 


End file.
